The morning sun peeped through the openings of the stacked bamboos, reflecting on Ren's face a little too brightly than it should have. He wanted to sleep more, his body heavy and aching in places he didn't want to acknowledge, but his eyes were forced open before his brain could even process the message of ignoring the sun.
As he tried to shift, the rustle of the thin mattress reminded him exactly where he was. Cilian was already awake, sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to Ren.
The Alpha's broad shoulders were pale in the morning light, but the sight of the jagged, angry wound—now sluggishly weeping onto his skin—killed any lingering drowsiness Ren had.
Ren sat up slowly, but paused as his eyes landed on the marks on his naked body. His face immediately heated up as his mind replayed the high, broken noises he'd made in the dark. He couldn't bring himself to look at Cilian, so he fixed his gaze firmly on the bamboo floor.
